Her

This Love - Rilaya

This chapter contains descriptions of domestic violence, verbal and physical. Read with caution, and if you are struggling with this in your life, know you are not alone and reach out for help at 1-800-799-7233.
- liarmuch

Maya POV

"Just promise you won't leave."

"I won't."

"Promise, Riley."

"I promise, Maya."

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"Get out."

"Maya, please-"

"I said get out Riley! Fucking go!"

"I'm sorry."

The cold wall against her naked back made her shiver as she stared in front of her. Staring at nothing in particular. The bland grey wall of the small studio apartment bathroom. The dust collecting around the trash can where they hadn't moved it since they moved in. The patched up hole in the wall where Riley accidentally tripped while holding her hair dryer.

Or maybe she was just staring so that she wouldn't start crying if she blinked. That seemed more realistic than staring at the small nothingnesses of the tiny bathroom. But then again, the small nothingnesses were theirs. Not hers alone. Not Riley's alone. Theirs. And now, they're just hers. And now, her mind is clouded with memories. Harsh memories that make her heart ache. So she decided to try and distract herself. With staring.

The room didn't have hardly any of the items it did before. Sure, the hand soap was still there, Maya's hairbrush sitting right beside of it. She was pretty sure there was a couple of rolls of toilet paper under the sink. But that's about it. Maybe a couple of towels and a few washcloths and nothing more. All of the brunette's items were gone. Packed away and out of the apartment within a day. While Maya was at her mothers house.

The entire apartment felt empty. She was never one for decorating a place where she didn't spend most of her time, so she left that up to Riley. Everything was hers. The pictures on the walls, the small vase on their counter beside of the microwave. Everything that made it feel like home, was Riley's. And now everything that made the apartment feel comforting and like home was gone. It was almost as empty as the day they moved in other than a single couch, a tv stand with a small 32" tv on it, a single lamp beside of the couch, the microwave and a bit of food in the kitchen, and her bed and clothes in the bedroom. She didn't even leave the coffee maker. It was a shell of a home, needing to be rebuilt from the inside out.

Maya finally decided she needed to move from the same spot she had been sitting in for about an hour. She had realized she stopped crying almost thirty minutes ago, and her eyes burned from crying almost daily for almost a month. She slowly started to move from her position with her legs pulled to her chest, and she winced. She looked down at her arms, and a small tear welled up in her eyes once again. She didn't even know she could cry anymore, but the sight of the bruises on her upper arm proved her wrong. She hadn't realized that it was even there. She honestly couldn't even really tell you how it got there. It wasn't from where she originally assumed, as that happened a month prior. That memory was almost a blur, completely blocked out from her mind due to the trauma she endured.

"What is this?" Riley's voice was the first thing Maya heard as she walked through the front door, and she flinched at the harshness behind the words.

The blonde didn't even have time to take her beanie off before she was met face to face with her girlfriend, who's face was red with anger, and in her hand was one of Maya's sketch books, opened to a page where she had sketched one of her clients, which happened to be her nude back with her arms crossed in front of her, on her knees. It was a very simple sketch, done in a very professional environment.